Not Your Typical New Girl Story
by Amara777
Summary: Ah, the typical “new girl” story. You all know how that goes. Girl moves into small town, goes to high school, and meets a bunch of boys. Guys like her, and you watch/read who she might pick in the end...Yeah, this is not that story.
1. Preface

Disclaimer: Let's see, what would I do if I owned South Park? The show is so screwed up enough (in a funny way) that I don't know how I can make it any more screwed up than it already is (unless having a little bit of slash hints here and there for my own amusements count, but come on! What fangirl doesn't want that?). Oh well. The point is that I don't own South Park, so don't come after me with lawyers.

* * *

**Preface:**

Ah, the typical "new girl" story. You all know how that goes. Girl moves into small town, goes to high school, meets a bunch of boys and is instantly friends with them. You all watch and/or read about her experiences, and see which boy likes her and which boy she will end up liking. Basically, every girl's dream come true, at least at some point in their life. (Don't lie. You've all had this fantasy.)

Yeah, this is not that story.

I _wish_ it was. Things would be much simpler for my new life in this small mountain town in Colorado. I would love to have most, if not all, of the guys like me. (Once again, don't hate me right away for dreaming; you've dreamt of this too at some point.) I'd like to say that the guys I get to know are to be my love interests, and I might admit that some of them have some very endearing qualities (yes, even the fat jackass of the group).

But I haven't had time for love. Not since all this crap has fallen on me.

Especially not now, when those certain friends and I are running through the forest, trying to escape some men who have something planned for our home. We need to get through the forest, to the outskirts of town, in order to get help. We can't stop these people on our own; there are too many, and their guns say a lot of what kind of advantage the four of us has against them. We need reinforcements.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? You don't want to know what I'm facing now. You want to know how it got to be this way. What bullshit me and three other dudes had to go through to get to this point.

I don't get why you'd want to, perhaps to escape the "new girl" cliché. I don't know; I can't read your mind. But I know that, personally, I'd rather read, or watch, something as dumb and whimsical as a girl surrounded by a bunch of love interests, instead of some weird twist of it, where the girl has to face more shit than she can probably handle.

But I might as well, since you're already inside my head, for some reason or another. I will warn you though—it's not going to be pretty. You're a pretty brave person if you want to hear this tale so badly.

So, come on! Let's go back a few months, to mid-to late September, when I officially moved to South Park, Colorado—my new home.

* * *

Dear sweet Jesus H. Christ, I swore I'd never do something like this, but oh well—the damage is done. Frankly, I got bored, and it's the summer, and I've got nothing better to do than write something to entertain me.

Well, let's see if you like it, since people in this fandom seem to like these South Park OC stories so far.

**Name: Lisa Claudio**

**Gender: Female**

**Age: 16**

**Hair: Brown**

**Skin color: light tan**

**Eye color: Brown**

**Outfit: cream sweater, jeans, navy winter coat, a black hat and sneakers**

**Personality: Wouldn't it be nice if you learned that as you read along?**

**History: Classified, but will be revealed as the story goes on**

**Crush: Don't know. Kinda changes a lot, because she doesn't have time to concentrate on boys when there is so much _plot_ going on. :D**

**Likes: Anything as long as it isn't too sweet.**

**Enemies: Also classified (yeah, I like to give surprises)**

**Other: Moved from New York in order to get a new "atmosphere" (coincides with her past)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Welcome to South Park**

Ah, New York. Home to the Statue of Liberty, Manhattan, the City that Never Sleeps. Also home to one of the greatest boroughs in the U.S.: the Bronx, or, as my friend would say, _El Bronx_.

Wanna know why my borough is so great? Well, to start, we Bronx natives have a "the" in our borough's name; _the _Bronx. Does Brooklyn have that? Queens? Nah-uh, mind reader. The Bronx is the best place there is (sure, you have to be careful in some areas, but hey—all places are like that).

Too bad it's, like, a thousand miles behind me.

"Mom, Dad," I all but whine to my parentals. My father was driving the car, while my mom in the passenger seat, looking out the window.

"Yes, sweetie," Mom answered.

"Please explain to me, once again, why we have to move away from New York?" I asked.

Mom turned and smiled at me. "Oh, sweetie. It's for your own good, remember? The doctor said that you'd be able to grow better in a small, cozy atmosphere."

I wince inwardly, because I know what's she's talking about all too well. I don't hate her for the reminder though. She doesn't know that that night still affects me.

"Okay, but why to a place called, _South Park_?"

Even the name of the town left a bad taste in my mouth, and we haven't even gotten there yet.

"Because it's not only small and in the mountains, but your father was offered a job there, and you know how much we need the money."

"That's right," my father agreed. "So, Lisa, you better suck it right now. You are going to live in South Park, and you are going to _like_ it."

I sat up in my seat so my dad could see me in the rearview mirror. I quirked one dark eyebrow and gave him a look.

Dad sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. You are going to live in South Park, and you are going to _tolerate _it. Can you do that?"

I smirked at him playfully and shrugged. "I guess so."

The drive was silent for the rest of the way, which wasn't that long, thankfully. Within about thirty minutes, we had already passed the sign.

"Welcome to South Park, Colorado!"

When I looked at it outside my window, I scowled at it. Then, to add salt to the injury, I stuck my tongue out and wiggled it at the sign and my new home.

Immature? Yes. But I hadn't wanted to move away from the Bronx. It had been the only place I had ever known. I was born there. I spent sixteen years of my life there. I had friends, family and even my very own hang out. I had spent half of my life making something of myself. How am I going to make all of that up with a new life?

Then again, perhaps this was a good thing. I mean, mom said I needed a change in scenery. Maybe South Park was the place just for that?

I know that it sounds contradictory and complicated. I wanted to go home, yet I wanted to start over. I wanted to be with people I knew, and people who knew me, yet I desired to start something new, to forget my old life, to go somewhere where the name Lisa Claudio was a nobody. I wanted a clean slate, yet I wanted my old life.

Don't assume too quickly; I'm not screwed up. I'm just human. It's natural to be a little bit of a contradiction.

Either way, it was too late to turn back now. New York was already far away, and we were already here. I had to get over whatever torn emotions I had, suck it up, and then try to move on. This was all meant to help me, I kept reminding myself, repeating my own doctor's words when we had our last session.

It was time to move on.

~&~

I could already tell that this town and I were going to have some issues—mostly weather related issues. There was so much snow and ice on the roads that I shook with slight fear in my seat. There was even snow covering and surrounding all the houses, including my family's new house, which we eventually parked in front of.

When I opened the door, I had already braced myself for the cold. I had been wearing a navy winter coat along with a hat. Yet, when the rush of cold air hit me, I felt winded. Being from the East Coast, I was a little used to cold winters. But, as I stood outside my dad's car, my body shivering and my teeth chattering, the revelation of South Park's all year winter finally sank in.

When my father stepped out he spread his arms and took a deep breath. "Ah, the smell of mountain air. This certainly brings back memories. Just you wait, Lisa! You will be happy here."

_Ooh, yippee. I've always wanted frostbite._

My mom smiled at the house as she hugged her arms. "And the house looks so grand, doesn't it Lisa?"

I looked at the house and scowled slightly to myself. This place would be so much easier to hate if the house was crappy.

"It's all right, I suppose," I said softly.

My mom nodded at me, but then her eyes widened, and she looked back at my dad again. "Honey, when will the movers get here?"

Dad checked his watch. "They should be here in a few minutes."

Mom grinned like a child. "That gives us enough time to check out the house." As she and Dad walked towards the house, she turned to me questioningly.

"Do you wanna come in for a little bit, sweetie?"

I shook my head with a small smile. "Not yet, Mom. I want to…take things in for a little bit."

"All right, sweetheart."

Once they were inside the house, my smile disappeared as I let out a groan. "Take things in for a bit," I said, when in reality I meant, _Try to get the fuck out of this place while I still have the chance._ Then I won't be forced to meet new people. I'm a bit afraid of strangers.

God, I am such a coward.

Speaking of strangers, I suddenly felt the heat of eyes staring at me. When I turned my head, I saw a man across the street shoveling snow out of his walk. Then I saw a woman in a car drive off, away from my house, as if it was suddenly infected with the plague. In fact, there were a lot of people who started doing random things when I looked at them. That's how I knew that they were staring at me and my family.

Now, I know it's irrational, but I hate it when people stare at me. It gets me paranoid. So, I just turned around and tried to ignore them. It was probably normal anyway, the townspeople staring at the new people I mean. It was nothing to be afraid of…

Right…?

"Aw, hello."

Startled, I jumped at the woman's voice and whipped my head around to face the owner of the voice. Standing in front of my new house was a pudgy woman with big red hair, who stood with a brown haired man who wore a Yamaha, which revealed his Jewish heritage. Standing next to them were two boys. One was younger, with black hair and slightly beady eyes. The other looked about my age, wearing an orange coat and a green hat.

I found myself fascinated by the older guy, especially by his eyes. He looked kind of cute, but he didn't seem to like me very much. He had a scowl on his mouth, one that said that he _really_ didn't want to be here. We locked eyes for a second. His eyes really were nice looking, but before I could investigate them further, he turned his head away from me, his scowl deepening. I felt myself cringe slightly.

_Yeah, he definitely doesn't like me._

The woman, who was the mom, I presumed, walked up to me, her smile wide. "Welcome to South Park. My name is Sheila Broflovski, and this is my husband, Gerald."

"Hello," Mr. Broflovski waved.

Mrs. Broflovski gestured to the two boys. "These are our sons. This is Ike—"

The little kid with black hair smiled and waved at me.

"Hi!"

I smiled timidly and waved back.

"And this is Kyle."

The older boy glanced at me briefly without even a smile.

"Hey."

I winced a little bit at the cold voice. Yeah, Kyle _definitely _did not like me. Actually, I was inclined to believe that Kyle hated me. But for what reason? Did I honestly want to find out?

Still, despite my discomfort, I smiled politely at the family.

"It's great to meet you guys," I said. "If you want, you can come inside and meet my parents."

"That'd be wonderful, dear."

So, I opened the door to my new house, and called my parents over to meet the Broflovski's. As typical of the whole new neighbor thing, both of my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski got along well. Well enough to go off and explore the house and talk as if they were in their own little bubble.

Leaving me with Ike and Kyle.

Yeah, talk about _awkward_~.

At least with Kyle anyway. Ike was pretty friendly towards me. He's pretty knowledgeable in literature, actually. He kept asking what books I liked and commented on most of them. Not all of the comments were in my favor ("_Twilight_? The one with the sparkly fag of a vampire?"), but I didn't take it to heart. I actually respect him a little bit; especially when he recognizes American classics such as John Steinbeck (he really seems to like him). I can tell that he and I were going to get along great, since we both seemed to have a book addiction (books are like my crack).

Kyle was still silent around me, but I didn't call him out on it. He probably wasn't a fan of meeting new people either.

All in all, the visit from the Broflovski's was pretty normal.

At least until Ike started leading me upstairs by the hand. Then things got a little…weird.

Of course, I will not realize how strange this was until later on.

Anyway, Ike took my hand and was practically dragging me upstairs. I played along because he was a little kid who probably needed to be indulged in order to save himself from boredom. Plus, his eagerness amused me. Kyle followed behind us, probably to watch over his little brother.

"Ike, where are you taking me, exactly?"

Ike smiled up at me cryptically. "To your room, of course. It should be right up here."

I quirked an eyebrow. "You know where my room is?"

The little boy nodded. "Yeah."

He didn't say anymore until we went inside a room. It was pretty big and average, nothing really special. It had been cleared of furniture and had a window that looked showed a nice view of the town and its mountains. Even though it was average, I found that I liked it right away. My standards for a new room weren't really all that high, so this room would be perfect for me. It was big enough for my bookcase, and that's what really mattered.

"This room is nice," I commented as I stood in the middle of it. "I think I'll like it."

Ike smiled. "Thought you would. Stan, Kyle and their friends always had fun in this room."

That made me pause.

"…Stan?"

"He and his family used to live here."

Kyle's voice made me jump and I turned my gaze towards him, though he still didn't look at me. He walked past me to stand in front of the window, just looking out with a blank facial expression. I glanced at Ike, whose gaze was lowered to the floor guiltily, and then walked over to stand next to Kyle, who still didn't look at me.

"Was he your friend?" I asked delicately.

He smiled slightly. "My best friend."

I nodded, understanding. I know what it's like to be separated from a best friend. It's a little hard sometimes.

"So, did he just move to another house, or…?"

"He transferred."

I blinked. "Oh. You mean like to another state…?"

For the first time since we met a few minutes ago, Kyle actually looked at me. His green eyes bored into mine, making me feel a little uncomfortable. I stared back at him, joining in a bit of a staring contest that must have lasted at least a few moments. He looked hesitant for some reason that I hadn't known at the time.

Then he spoke again.

"Yeah. You could say something like that."

Kyle turned back to face the window and didn't speak to anyone until he and his family had to leave.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: New School**

A couple of days later, my family and I had unpacked all of our stuff at our new house. Well, okay, not _all_ of our stuff. There were still a few knickknacks and other junk that were in the boxes, but they weren't really all that important, like the beds, the kitchen supplies, or the furniture. You get the idea though (at least, I hope you do).

Anyway, a couple of days later, I was standing in front of an unfamiliar building that had an American flag hung up on a pole. I had a sneaky suspicion of what it was, but I didn't know until I saw the sign.

"South Park High School—Home of the Mighty Cows!"

I couldn't help but tilt my head in question.

…_The fuck? Mighty cows…?_

"Mom, what do they mean by cows?" I asked Mom as she got out of the car.

She pursed her lips at the sign, and then shrugged. "I don't know, Lisa. This town does have a lot of cows in it, so it could be talking about that. Or, perhaps it's the name of their team."

_What kind of addict would name a team the "Mighty Cows"?_

I just sighed and left it alone. I was going to start school here tomorrow, so I might as well "tolerate" it, as my Dad had said that morning. I had tried to beg my parents to enroll me into some other place, or to home school me, but that was obviously no dice. One: this was the only school in the town, and it was cheap. Two: it would cost more to home school me than to send me to a public school.

Yeah, my parents can be such douches. But I love them anyway.

I felt Mom put her hand on my shoulder, to comfort me I think.

"Ready to go in, sweetie?"

I really wasn't, and I wanted to say so, like the smartass I am, but I didn't. Instead, I just nodded and followed her inside so she could enroll me into my new school.

The enrolling part of it wasn't so bad. I met the principal and the school's guidance counselor (Mr. "Mm'kay" Mackey). They weren't too bad, they were actually kind of funny, but that doesn't mean that I liked them. It's hard to like anybody when they are just strangers to you, especially if you're a social retard like me anyway.

Okay, so maybe I'm not a social retard; I just don't like strangers all that much and I'm not really that social. I still have friends (they're just back home), and I do want friends (or at least people who are nice and make me laugh; I could use a good laugh). But it's just _hard_ sometimes because I never know how to act around new people, so I often come off as a "freak" or a "social retard". I guess if you're mostly an outgoing person, you probably wouldn't understand, which is lucky for you (no sarcasm there, I swear). If you are an extreme introvert like me, you will at least have an idea of what I'm talking about.

One of the main things I hate is standing in front of a bunch of people I don't even know.

Which is what leads me to my first day of school…

"Now class, we have a new student here today," some gay teacher says to a bunch of teenagers. He is standing next to me, with a weird puppet on one of his hands. I don't really know his name, I didn't catch it. But I know he's gay, I can just tell. God, I can just hear my best friend Bianca scream in my ear, telling me that I'm such a "lucky bitch". Yeah, she's one of those girls who like gay men, especially when they are kissing each other. (Not that I'm not like that; I just don't obsess over it like her.)

"Her name is Lisa Claudia," he continued.

"…C-Claudi_o_, sir," I corrected softly. I hated it when people made mistakes like that with my name.

I think the class laughed a bit, but I'm not really sure. My blood was ringing so much in my ears that it was all I _could_ hear.

"Whatever," he waved me off. "All of you please welcome her, and try not to be complete assholes to her. Now, Lisa you're going to sit next to Kyle Broflovski. Kyle raise your hand."

I quirked an eyebrow in bemusement. _Kyle is here?_ I looked at the class and found him, his hand raised a little bit. I quickly moved to the empty seat next to him, wanting to get away from the staring eyes. Unfortunately, though I didn't dare look up, I could still feel the burn of eyes on me, even though the gay teacher had already started lecturing about God knows what. I tried to concentrate, but the people's stares just freaked me out. I mean, come on, I'm not weird looking. So, what's the deal?

I would have looked out the window and start daydreaming (that always helped), but I didn't sit at the window. I sat in the very center of the classroom.

Yeah, I know it totally sucked.

Kyle actually helped me a bit, actually. He probably the only teen in the class who didn't stare at me. His eyes were on this book he was reading.

_Whoa, hang on!_

I did a double take on Kyle, paying special attention to the book he was reading. My God, it was huge! It was almost as thick as Charles Dickens' _A Tale of Two Cities_, yet not really quite (now, that book is huge, not to mention boring; I didn't bother to finish it). My immediate guess was that it was fiction, because there was no way a non-fiction book could be that big.

Like I had mentioned before, books are like my crack, especially if they are fiction. I have so many books in my shelf that it's hard to fit them all, ranging from the classics to contemporary. The bigger and more interesting, the better, I usually say.

I tried to see the title of the book, but Kyle's hand kept it covered. I leaned my head forward, but I still couldn't see it. The guy kept moving his hand in front of it when he flipped a page.

I growled to myself.

_God damn it!_

This was when I got desperate. I bent my body from my seat and held it on the floor by leaning on my palms. I partially crawled over close up to the book, and I almost saw the title when…

"What the hell are you doing?"

I looked up to see Kyle's startled face, and I immediately froze. I was suddenly aware that the other students around us were staring at me, and I felt my face heat up and start to sweat. The only good thing about this is that the gay teacher was too into his lesson to pay attention to this scene. All I could do was think, _Fuck, how am I going to get out of this one?!_

I decided to tell the truth to him, because I couldn't come up with a good enough lie to explain my predicament.

"I…uh, just wanted to see the title of your book." At his raised eyebrow, I hastily added, "I thought it looked interesting!"

For a few minutes, which lasted hours, really, Kyle didn't say anything. He just blinked his cute green eyes at me, while I blinked up at him, still not moving from my position. I tried smiling, but it probably looked guilty on my red face, because his expression didn't really change.

"Oh."

I felt myself frown and my emotions dampen. I knew that tone. That was the "this chick is obviously crazy, but I won't question it" kind of tone. The kind of tone that many people used on me when they first meet me. I'd like to say that I told him to fuck off, and that I didn't care what he, or anyone else, thought of me, but then I'd be lying. I'm not the badass chick who is a loner. I'm not saying that I'm a needy person, but I've been getting lonely lately, due to recent _issues_.

It wouldn't have been so bad if my few friends from New York were here. They knew my issues and they still stayed with me, even when it seemed too difficult for me and them as well.

But they are not here with me.

And I could already tell from both the stares and Kyle's tone that no one in this town wanted to be friends with the freaky new girl.

At least, that's what I thought.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Kyle's book land on my desk.

I blinked at it, and then I blinked up at him. He shrugged and I thought I could see a hint of an amused smile on his face.

"You could have just asked, you know."

I gaped at him. "R-really?" _It's _that_ simple?_

Kyle nodded, smiling slightly.

I nodded a thank you at him, and then sat back up in my seat, so I could observe the book better. It was a historical fiction novel titled _Drood_, and is apparently based on some supernatural being that inspired Charles Dickens to write his last book, but that wasn't really important. The point is that it made me feel better for the rest of the school day. I knew that this didn't make Kyle and me friends (I had a feeling that he was also trying to warm up to the situation), but I felt confident that I could make it here, even if I was on my own.

I got the feeling that maybe South Park wouldn't be that bad of a place to live.

~&~

My first day of school passed by me without any real incident that left an impact. I managed to talk to a few people, mostly to this boy named Butters. He was really sweet and friendly, though he's a bit on the slow side. There was also this chick named Bebe, who decided that she would be my "new best friend". She's a bit of a girly girl, but she didn't seem so bad so far.

Overall, my first day of school was pretty cool. People even stopped staring at me at third period, which made me feel great! I was even smiling like a goofy idiot as I walked to my house. Things felt good, I felt good, everything _was_ good.

Then, I saw the letter inside my family's mailbox. It didn't have an envelope, or any other sign of an address. It was a crinkled white paper that had been folded over a few times.

When I went inside the house, I went to that letter first and unfolded it.

My eyes widened and I started shaking.

It had been written in a rushed scrawl, with all the letters being capital.

This is what it said:

_**GET OUT OF SOUTH PARK!! NOW!!**_

_**89**_

And that was only the beginning mind reader.

* * *

DUN, DUN, DUN!

Lol, ah the suspense begins. Well, review and say what you think.

By the way _Drood _is a real book, which I haven't read, (and which I don't own), but I think it looks interesting. I'm not sure what Kyle would read, so I hope you don't mind if I added this.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Challenge**

I didn't get another note like that one for the rest of that week.

Even so, I was wary of everything the next few days, all the way to Friday. Someone in this town didn't want me and my family here. Someone must have hated new people with such a passion that they had to resort to petty (and creepy) written threats. The worst part was that that someone could have been anyone in South Park.

Including my own classmates.

So, can you blame me for being paranoid? I didn't look at anyone the same after that note, not even Butters, and he looked the innocent out of everyone in the town. I was already mentally writing down a number of suspects who might want to get rid of me and my family. I probably should have gone to the police, or to my parents, because they still didn't see the note. (I didn't want to scare them.)

So, I waited until the next note came...

Which it didn't.

It didn't come the next week, which was already the beginning of October. I then figured that it was just a harmless little prank and that it would immediately go away.

Next thing I know, it's October 7 and I'm standing at my locker and Bebe is approaching me with an invitation to a Halloween party.

"…There will be costumes, food, candy, drinks, dancing, boys, games and much more. It will be so fun, Lisa," she gushed. "Will you be able to come?"

I had just put back my history book when I looked at her. She was blinking her eyes, making them all shiny for special effect, and protruding her lip out into a pout. I mentally rolled my eyes, though I was smiling at her with amusement.

"It won't be a party unless you come," she prompted.

I highly doubted that. Nothing had really changed since my first day of school. I talked to a lot more people right at this point, but there was really no one I could truly call a "best friend", unless Bebe counted, but I think she just felt a little sorry for me.

The point was that I wasn't popular, not like most of the other girls in this school. That was fine with me though; being popular was never a top priority for me.

Still, Bebe's offer was tempting. Didn't my mom mention that I would feel better if I socialized some more?

"Sure, I'll go," I said.

Bebe beamed. "Great! All the information will be on the invitation. Can't wait for you to be there, Lisa!"

She waved to me as she went off to her next class, and I waved back politely. Then I reluctantly opened the invitation, feeling paranoia start to seep in just a little bit. Even though it's been nearly two weeks since I got another note, I was still a little scared.

I had nothing to worry about though. It just said the date, the time and the place of the party.

With a sigh of relief, I gathered my books for the rest of the day and just started walking to class.

I kind of sensed Butters before I saw him.

"Ha-Hi, Lisa," the blonde boy greeted.

I smiled. "Hey Butters."

"So, you're going to Bebe's party?"

I feigned an annoyed moan. "God, what's with this place? Does news travel fast or what? I feel as if all my privacy is gone."

"Ah—uh, no! I-I just was asking because _I _got an invitation, and well…I just thought…"

Butters flushed and started rubbing his knuckles together.

I laughed and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He was just too cute.

"I'm just kidding, Butterfinger."

He flushed slightly at the nickname I made for him. I was always a fan of the candy bar _Butterfingers_ when I was younger, and I figured that the name would be a nicer nickname than something like Buttercup.

"Are you sure you want to head to class so fast?" he asked timidly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, otherwise I'm going to be late."

"W-well, mah-maybe you should…"

"He's done it again, hasn't he?"

Butters' guilty face said it all. I sighed, feeling exasperated, but confident. It's been bugging me for a couple of weeks now, but since it was relatively harmless, I didn't really care.

So, I smiled at the boy reassuringly.

"Don't worry so much, Butters. I think it's safe to say that any crack of a prank Cartman has is anything I can handle."

With that said, I started walking faster to my next class.

Are you confused? Yeah, I kind of thought you would be. So, I'll give you the basic summary.

Eric Cartman is a big, fat, bigoted douche, who apparently had nothing to do that week but _try _to make my new life in South Park miserable (note: I stress "try").

No, seriously, he had _absolutely __nothing_ to do. I even asked him after his first prank, when he put harmless bugs in my desk. Cartman just smirked and responded:

"I'm bored."

Needless to say, after the bugs and the lunch that magically landed on my hair (ha! _Magically_ my ass), I didn't really find any of it funny. But I also didn't really care either, since it was all really harmless, so I just took it all in stride.

It was really no big deal. I'm not a huge fan of bugs, but I didn't scream bloody murder, as if the things were going to kill me (unlike some of the other girls in the class…). And luckily, macaroni and cheese washes off easily, so that was no big deal either.

Besides, it all worked out in the end anyway.

Because, you see, the more I treat his pranks like nothing, the more pissed off Cartman gets.

That way, he doesn't really bother me.

Understand?

Anyway, back to me going into class.

The minute I entered the classroom, I saw Cartman standing next to this guy who wore an orange parka, with the hood up.

I wouldn't really know him until later on, but his name was Kenny McCormick. When you first meet him, he's pretty quiet. That doesn't mean he doesn't talk, though. He speaks, but usually it's muffled by the hood. Even so, I didn't know so much about him. We didn't talk when we saw each other, or at least, he didn't talk to _me_.

Anyway, Cartman was standing right next to him, talking about something or other, when he saw me. Then he smirked.

"Well, well, if it isn't the newbie, Claudia."

I scowled. Ever since Mr. Garrison (yes! I finally found out the gay teacher's name. I feel so proud of myself) mispronounced my name, Cartman has called me "Claudia", much to my chagrin. And he knows it too, the jerk.

"Cartman," I greeted him in a clipped tone. "Leave another gift for me?"

He feigned an innocent look, complete with his hand over his chest, as if I had wounded him.

"Claudia, that hurt," he said pathetically.

I rolled my eyes and walked over to my desk. I could already tell that people were staring at me, eagerly waiting for my reaction, or whatever was going to happen. The teens in this school must be so incredibly bored if they have nothing better to do than watch the new kid get pranked, but whatever.

I slowly opened my desk…

When something cool and scaly jumped up my sleeve and slithered up my arm.

I jumped back in shock and yelped, especially when I felt the thing coil around my shoulder and go up the collar of my shirt. When I looked down I was met with a tiny snake with green scales that hissed out its tongue at me.

"Lisa, are you okay?" Kyle asked me, looking concerned.

I stiffly nodded, still in shock. Then I shuddered as the snake seemed to cuddle against my warm skin, but didn't try to remove it. In fact, I made sure the snake didn't move any further. I felt a little bad for it, despite my discomfort. Poor little thing must have been cold.

I was suddenly aware of Cartman's cackling in the background, as well as a couple of others'. I guess they must have seen my reaction to the snake. I scowled and walked over to Cartman. He briefly stopped his laughter to smirk at me, which I returned with a glare.

Then I smacked him upside his head.

His face went blank, his brown eyes blinking in shock. When Kenny released muffled laughter from behind his parka, Cartman glared at me, standing upright so he could use his height to tower over me (jerk…).

"Ay, what was that for you little bitch?!"

"You incredibly fat asshole!" I exclaimed.

I gestured to the snake still coiled near my neck.

"Don't you know these things are cold blooded?! It could have died in this weather! And not only that, where did you manage to manage to find a snake in this place, anyway?"

He growled. "Well, if you must know, I actually got it from a pet shop. And, yes I knew that it was cold blooded and that it could have died. That's why I gave it to you, since you're such a hippie bitch for these _stupid_ animals!"

I twitched, feeling my lips draw back into a snarl. "Caring for animals doesn't make me a 'hippie bitch' fat ass!" I yelled, mocking his apparent speech impediment.

"Ay, don't call me fat, bitch!"

"Well, don't call _me_ a bitch, ass!"

"I'll call you what I want, _bitch!_" He laughed.

I felt my eye twitch and a growl rumble from me. _Oh, that is _it_._

"Damn it, Cartman, can't you leave Lisa alone for one day!" Kyle snapped, going to my side.

Cartman glared at him. "Oh shut up, you damn Jew! You have nothing to do with this!"

I knew that this would erupt in an argument between him and Kyle. I have no clue why, but apparently Cartman gets a kick out of bugging Kyle. Seriously, if he's not teasing me, then he's bothering the other boy about his heritage. And the more I see it, the more I get a Helga and Arnold vibe…

So, before it began, I smiled sweetly at Kyle. "No, no Kyle. I was the one in the wrong."

Ignoring both Kyle and Kenny's confused looks and turned my sweet face on Cartman. "Cartman, you were right. You're not fat."

He smirked. "Huh, that's bet—"

"You're _obese_!"

Kyle stifled a laugh behind his hand, while Kenny burst out into muffled bouts of laughter. Cartman's face grew red as he glared at me, death clearly in his eyes. If looks could kill, I'd have been a pile of bloody and pink goo by now.

Yes, I admit that it was mean and arrogant of me, not to mention untrue. Cartman isn't really obese. He's just big, with probably just a little fat. I've never really been one to insult a person based on their weight. My parents have taught me better than that.

But hey, it's not all my fault! The jackass called me a bitch!

………

Yeah, I know. Not an excuse, I gotcha. But don't tell me you wouldn't do the same thing!

Okay, back to the flashback now.

Cartman walked up in front of me. I stood tall, while also making sure the snake was getting its warmth from under my layers.

"Oh, you've really done it now bitch."

"Really?" I laughed arrogantly.

I was suddenly aware that we were the center of attention. There was something about that that inspired me.

"I have an idea, Cartman," I said. "How about the two of us settle this once and for all?"

The rest of the class oohed, obviously interested. I guess this town really is that boring.

He hummed thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Claudia?"

I ignored his mispronunciation of my name and went on. "I'm talking Bebe's party. On Halloween. There will be drinks there, right?"

He scoffed. "No, duh."

"Kenny will be providing them," Kyle added tentatively, gesturing to said boy, who was standing beside him.

I looked at Kenny and met blue eyes, and I smiled to myself. Though his hood covered most of his face, I could already sense that Kenny was a Class A cutie. Seemed like this town had its share of a few.

"Kenny, do you think you could get your hands on a bottle of _Bacardi Oro _rum?" I asked.

His eyes widened. "MMPH?! Bmmph mm?! Mmmph mmmphy?"

I blinked. "What…did he say?"

"He said, 'What?! _Bacardi_ rum?! Are you crazy?'," Kyle answered.

I nodded in understanding. _Bacardi_ is, like, the top brand of rum in the world. It is known for its top notch taste and its Hispanic roots, especially in Cuba. It is one of the oldest brands of rum to have existed, and in a way, that makes its taste the strongest. It is also the most expensive, unfortunately. You would mostly see bottles of _Bacardi _in clubs or something.

Still, it's the only alcoholic drink I will ever touch right now.

"Like a fox," I answered. "So, do you think you can get your hands on a bottle Kenny?"

Kenny's eyes grew sly and he lifted his hand into a mock salute. I didn't need Kyle to translate to know that he said, "Leave it to me."

"What's the rum for?" Cartman asked.

"You and me are going to have a drinking contest," I explained.

The class started murmuring. I ignored them and continued.

"Whoever can drink as many shots of rum without passing out will win. If I win, you have to leave me alone." I quirked an eyebrow, "That good for you?"

Cartman smirked. "Fair enough. But, if _I _win, you have to be my personal slave for," he paused, thinking, "the rest of the _year_."

My eyes widened, and then they narrowed. There was no way I was going to show him how scared I might have felt. The class erupted into exclamations and excited murmurs.

"Lisa, it's not worth it!" I heard Kyle cry out.

"Yeah, Kyle's right," some girl named Red said.

"You're playing with fire, new girl!" some guy named Clyde said.

I wanted to respond to them with an "I know", but I was too busy holding my gaze with Cartman's. Because, the truth is, no matter how arrogant I sounded, I knew that I was playing with fire. I knew that I was making a huge gamble worthy of a deal with Satan. I knew that it was stupid to make the challenge.

And yet…

"Fine."

I felt that there was no way I could turn back.

(See? This is why pride is bad for you children.)

Cartman's eyes glinted as his smirk widened. He held his gloved hand out for me to shake and I grasped it. We both squeezed each other's hand and smirked at each other.

If you've ever seen an anime (Japanese cartoon), such as _Dragon Ball Z_, _Tenchi Muyo_, or any of those classics, you'd know that the rivals of each anime always have sparks coming out of their eyes and colliding with each other.

Yeah, that's basically what happened between me and Cartman.

Ryoko and Ayeka had nothing on us, baby.

"Okay, if you two are done with your flirting, can I please start my class?"

Both Cartman and I glared at Mr. Garrison, who just looked bored and annoyed.

"**There's no way I'd ever flirt with that bitch/asshole**!" We both cried out in unison, immediately letting go of each other's hands as if we burned each other.

Then we glared at each other and left to our individual seats in a huff, because….Well, would you want you and your enemy or rival to say the same thing as you (more or less)? That practically proves that your wavelengths match, or some shit like that. And I certainly didn't want my brain waves to match up with Cartman's.

~&~

After that little scene, the day went on as if nothing happened.

I had to keep the snake under my jacket so it could stay warm, and it luckily made it. (Yay!) I decided to take it home and keep it in this little glass container where my lizard used to be (I miss my precious Geico TxT…). It has its own heating lamp and everything. I did have to buy food for it though from the pet store though, which wasn't really all that much (little feeding mice cost two dollars at least).

When I was up in my room, I sat in my bed and smiled into the container at the snake slithered around.

"I think I'll name you…Resa," I said to it. "She really liked snakes, you know, and she always wanted one of her own, but we never got a chance to buy one together…"

I smiled sadly at the snake, which looked at me with its slit eyes. "She would have really liked you…"

After feeding it its food, I got up from my bed and went downstairs to check the mail. Despite the note I got on my first day of school, and my challenge to Cartman today, I was feeling good. I didn't worry about getting a note again; in fact, I felt that it was probably nothing. It was probably just Cartman, I started to think.

It seems the notes come when I feel as if nothing could go wrong.

There was nothing different about it at first. It still said the same thing. You know, "**GET OUT OF SOUTH PARK! NOW!!!**" and all that.

But then I looked on the bottom, where the "89" had been the last time.

_**74.**_

Two questions immediately popped into my mind.

_Why did the numbers change?_

And, most of all:

_What did it all mean…?_

I didn't tell my parents about the note. And I definitely didn't tell them about me drinking alcohol again for a challenge (though I did tell Mom about the party). I didn't want to worry them.

I didn't sleep at all that night. I kept feeling like I was being watched.

And……you wanna know something?

_I was._

* * *

*singing* I always feel like...somebody's watching me~! XD I love that song...

Ugh, I didn't like how this chapter turned out, but it's the only way to get the plot moving. Sorry for its suckiness.

Oh, and just in case I'll get sued, I don't own _Bacardi_ rum. I also don't own the animes that I referenced to. Also, if you don't know which animes I'm talking about, you can find information on them anywhere on the internet.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The Party Pt. 1**

This time, I did get another note after the subsequent one. It came six days later. It had the same words in the same messy handwriting, but as you've probably expected, the numbers were different again.

_**65.**_

With each of the three letters, there came a number, each one different than the last. It drove me crazy when I got the third note. Who was sending these things?! What did it all mean?

Weeks went by as I pondered these things. I didn't get another note after the third one, but that didn't mean that I wasn't on my guard during those few weeks. I learned my lesson after the second note.

Before I knew it, it was Halloween night, the night of Bebe's party. For that night I decided to put my worrying on hold for a bit. There was something inside me that told me that none of the people in my class had sent the notes, so I felt it was okay to trust them.

As I stepped out of the car, I adjusted my costume a bit before I started walking towards Bebe's house. My mother called me back though, her voice sounding concerned. She's been concerned ever since I told her about the party. This would be my first party in…months. Almost a year, actually.

"Do you have your cell phone?" she asked.

I resisted rolling my eyes. "Yes, Mom."

"And you know that you can call me or your father if anything goes wrong?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And you know not to take drinks from anyone you don't know, right?"

I bit my lip, feeling guilty. She still doesn't know that I was going to drink alcohol again that night for mine and Cartman's competition. It would break her heart if she found out.

"Yes, Mom," I sort of lied. It's not like I'm going to ask people to get the drinks for me. I get them myself.

"And you know not to get in the car with a drunk, right?"

I hesitated slightly with this one. Not because I would. I will never trust a drunken person who gets behind the wheel, even if they'd only had a few drinks. Past personal experiences has taught me that they are not worthy of that trust.

"Yes, Mom."

Mom sighed shakily and embraced me as tight as any concerned mother would. "I know I sound like a nagging bitch sometimes, but I just get worried about you sweetie, you know that. And when I think back to that night…"

Her voice trails off, and I can already sense that she's going to burst into tears. I feel my chest tighten and a lump form in my throat, and I almost feel close to crying myself. It may have happened almost a year ago, but the memory was still fresh, still painful…

Before this erupted into a cry fest worthy of a Lifetime movie, I patted my mother's back gently.

"It's okay, Mommy," I assured her softly. "I'll be fine, I promise."

After a while of her embracing me, Mom finally separated herself from me and smiled down at me. Her brown eyes, the ones I had inherited, looked down at me, glistening with unshed tears. She pushed a lock of hair behind one of my ears and cupped my cheek.

I put my hand over hers in a comforting manner, yet also in a manner that would bring her back to Earth. I knew that in that moment she didn't really see _me_.

She saw Resa.

_(…face like mine…)_

Then, with a sigh, she let me go.

"Well, be sure to have fun, Lisa. But not too much fun," she added with a sly wink.

I smiled back at her. "I will, Mommy."

Then she got in her car and drove off. As she did, I waved at her in the rear mirror, which she returned before she became a speck disappearing down the street. Then, I put up the hood of my cape, walked towards Bebe's house. I could already hear the loud music and dancing from the other side of the door.

When Bebe answered the door, all those loud sounds were released. I mentally cringed at the noise and instead concentrated on Bebe. She was wearing a black and red Sorceress costume, where the dress's hem was ripped, and the sleeves were long and spread out at her wrist. Her face had red eye shadow, facial stickers (like stars, moons, etc.) and her lips were a ruby red.

Her eyes widened when she saw me. "Oh my god, Lisa you look gorgeous!"

I blushed and smiled at the compliment. Not really out of modesty, to tell you the truth. I was well aware that I was looking hot that night. I usually did when I put some effort into my appearance.

My costume consisted of a black velvet medieval dress that had a corset around my abdomen with glossy purple strings. The dress went about down to my ankles and had a purple satin layer underneath it. My cape was also black and made of velvet, but it also had a purple layer. On my legs was a pair of purple tights and on my feet were black high heels. My brown hair had been curled, and it poofed out with purple glitter in it. My makeup consisted of purple eye shadow; dark lipstick and mascara that made my eyelashes curl to practically perfection. And, to complete the set, I had worn an obsidian amulet that was surrounded by amethyst jewels.

So, yeah, I had a reason to be proud of my looks that night. I could look really hot when I put in an effort to dress up. Halloween was one of the few nights I actually _dressed _up for.

"Thanks, so do you." I nodded at Bebe's outfit.

She giggled. "I know, isn't it great? Ah, I love Halloween, don't you?"

"Can't you tell?" I laughed with her.

"Well, come on in, the party's just getting started."

Bebe led me inside her house, which was dark, except for the bright colored lights that danced around the room, lighting up all the costumed teens that were dancing and talking to each other. I blinked and gulped at the amount of people that were here.

"There's so many," I stated the obvious.

"Yeah." Bebe rolled her eyes. "Apparently everyone wants to see this little 'show' between you and Cartman."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Uh-huh, they've practically been talking about it all month. Craig even set up a betting booth to see who would bid for either of you."

I followed where her finger pointed and saw Craig dressed in some weird metro sexual get up, holding out pieces of paper and talking about "the showdown". He was basically going "New girl vs. Eric Cartman tonight! Who will win? Step right up and place your bets", etc. You get the idea.

I twitched slightly at being referred to as "New girl", but I decided to follow Bebe around and ignore it. We past by some people, saying hi and all that formal crap. Well, she did most of the talking. I just hung back, saying the right thing at the right moment and trying not to completely zone out.

Someone tapped me on my shoulder, making me turn around to face them. For a moment, all I saw was a petite blonde girl wearing a flowery dress. Then I looked closer, and my eyes nearly bulged out of my head.

"BUTTERS?!"

Butters winked and giggled in a smooth girly tone. "Actually, the name is Marjorine." Then he laughed, his voice going back to its cute Southern accent. "At least tonight anyway. Nearly fooled you, didn't I Lisa?"

I dumbly nodded, still feeling disbelief over it all. He looked like a very convincing girl when he tried. Did that mean he was gay? Why hadn't I sensed it before? My gaydar would have gone off into haywire by now, surely.

Deep down inside, I was on my knees crying, probably in a way that would be comical to one such as you.

_Why is it always the cute ones, God...? WHY?!_

Bebe laughed at my expression. "I think you really had her, Butters."

The cross dresser looked up at me with guilty puppy dog eyes, while tapping his knuckles together. "Aw, gee, I'm sorry, Lisa. I hope you're not mad."

I blinked, and then forced a smile on my face. "Of course not Butters." I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You really got me, but in a good way. I'm impressed with your costume."

Mentally, I was looking up at the sky with a fist in the air; similar to a scene in that old movie _Gone with the Wind _(never read the book, sadly). My eyes were leaking with tears, yet they were storming with determination.

_Yes, I will move on from this heartbreak. My heart will go on!!!_

_*Cue _Titanic _theme song*_

…………

…………

Okay, okay, I see that look of yours. I'll stop with the cheesy stuff now, including all the bad movie parodies. But only because I've come to like you so much!

Anyway…

When the next song came on, Bebe gasped happily. "I love this song!" She pulled on my arm, "Let's go dance, Lisa."

I politely shook my head and smiled. "You go ahead. I'm not really a dancer."

She looked me with something akin to concern, but then shrugged. "Okay, suit yourself. Try to mingle though, okay? Come on, Butters."

With that, she pulled "Marjorine" to the dance floor with her. Butters kind of yelped, but he joined in anyway. I guess the boy may be a little introverted, but he probably had a party animal deep down inside him, waiting to pounce.

I watched the two of them briefly, memories flashing through my mind. Memories of two identical girls dancing, one was dancing more enthusiastically than the other, but they both had fun anyway. The memories were sad, yet they also brought a smile to my face.

Finally, I shook my head and walked towards the bar. I needed a bottle of water or something.

Standing there was a cute blonde guy with blue eyes that sparkled when he saw me.

"Hey there, cutie," he winked at me.

I smiled back somewhat shyly. This guy was hot. I could definitely see him breaking about a thousand hearts in his lifetime.

"Hey yourself."

(Note: I am not really a flirt, but that doesn't mean I don't try…it's just a bad try, that's all…)

"Preparing for the competition?"

I blinked, and then rolled my eyes. "Let me guess, you heard it from Cartman." _Fat fuck probably told him how he was going to cream my "hippie bitch ass", etc. etc.…_

He blinked. "Actually, I was there when you guys made the challenge."

I quirked an eyebrow. Surely the guy was lying. There was no way this hottie could be in the classroom, and _I_ didn't notice. Did that mean that, just like my gaydar, my boy-dar was out of whack as well? Resa would have been so ashamed.

The blonde's eyes got all sad and his shoulders slumped. Aw, he looked like a little kicked puppy.

"You…don't recognize me?"

His look made me feel guilty. I've always had this weakness for the kicked puppy types. I hesitantly shook my head.

He frowned and hummed thoughtfully, and then his face brightened up. "Hang on a second!"

He pulled up the hood of his black hoodie, and then tightened the straps around the hood, until only his eyes were showing. At first I didn't really get it, but then, after blinking a few times, I gaped at him, my face heating up with embarrassment.

"K-Kenny?!"

Kenny nodded his head, happily, muffling out a positive "uh-huh". Then he removed his hood again, smiling.

"Y-y-you have a…_face_," I stammered out.*

He quirked an eyebrow, amused. "Yeah."

"No, no Kenny, you have a _face._"

"…Is this a good thing, or a bad thing?"

I shrugged, acting cool (though probably not succeeding). "It's a good thing." _A _very_ good thing._

Kenny smirked in a way that made my legs turn to jelly. "Well, then I'm glad you think so."

I could practically hear Bianca screaming at me to jump him and drag him to the nearest closet and do naughty things to him. (Seriously, this is what she would do if she were in my place. And you don't want to know what she would do to him in the closet, trust me.)

I still couldn't believe it, even with my own eyes. Then again, this probably explained why so many girls in our school seemed to be crazy about him. Forget Class A cutie. Kenny was S Class Hottie, the practically unattainable types. They're hot enough to drool over, but they might not be interested in you, and if they are, it's most likely only for a good fuck. The kind of men I stayed away from, because they only brought drama.

But still, _damn_!

I cleared my throat and flicked a lock of hair behind my ear, mentally trying to get my composure back. God, I must have looked like such a _girl_…

…Don't look at me like that. I know you know what I'm talking about.

"So, what are you supposed to be?" I asked.

He picked up a scythe that was leaning against the wall, put up his hood again, and then held the scythe up above his head in a threatening manner. All that was missing was a skeleton mask, and he could practically be a perfect Grim Reaper, only the kind of Grim Reaper you wouldn't want to run away from. I laughed at how cute he looked.

"So Grim, claim any victims tonight?" I teased.

He removed his hood again. "None so far. None of the chicks here have really caught my interest." His eyes narrowed at me playfully. "Until _now_, that is."

I blushed brightly, and shifted my eyes away from Kenny. Dear sweet God, I was supposed to say something hot and sexy back, I knew I was. But…it's really, _really_ hard. See, I had hormones just like every other girl. I got boy crazy at times, (in case you were too dense to figure that out on your own). I just didn't have the expertise to flirt with guys I found hot.

Resa did though.

I guess we both balanced each other out that way…

I mentally slapped myself. Now was not the time to start bringing up painful, yet fun memories. Resa and I both loved Halloween with a passion, even when we got too old to trick or treat. We always used to buy our costumes ahead of time, like about a few months before October. I guess that's why I keep thinking about her.

Once again, I mentally slapped myself. _Stop it, Lisa. Living in the past isn't going to do anything…_

_It won't bring Resa back._

"So, is the fat ass here yet?" I asked, deciding to change the subject.

Kenny shrugged. "Haven't seen him, yet. But Kyle's here."

I smiled at the mention of Kyle. "Really? Where—?"

Someone coming up to Kenny's side caught my eye. They were holding this big box that looked heavy, and probably felt like it, if the person's struggles were any indication. I couldn't see them though because the box was covering their face. When they were behind the bar, they starting speaking as they put the box down.

"Fuck Kenny, how is it you could afford all this booze and not…"

Kyle's teasing voice trailed off when he saw me. I blinked at him, and he blinked at me. I took in his appearance, paying close attention to his head.

I immediately broke into a smile, and stifled the laugh that threatened to erupt from me.

Then he ducked down behind the bar. My smile grew when I realized that there was a slight hint of a blush on his face. How cute…

Kenny chuckled and leaned his head down slightly, obviously seeing Kyle's face when I couldn't.

"Come on Kyle," he teased. "It's not like Lisa wasn't going to see your Jew-fro eventually."

"Shut up, Kenny!" Kyle snapped.

I leaned on the bar, in order to see him better. "Aw, come on Kyle, don't hide it. I think your hair is cute."

_And hilarious_, I added in my mind, because I know he'd probably hate me if I said it out loud. Don't look at me like that. You'd probably find his hair funny too.

He scoffed softly, though I still heard it. "Yeah, right."

"No, seriously, it suits you," I insisted.

His hair really does. It's like this big huge puff ball of red. It's both funny and cute at the same time. I think Kyle would probably look better if the hair was more tamed, but since he's fine the way he is, it's really okay.

There was silence for a bit. And then…

"…Do you promise not to laugh when I come back out?"

I smiled softly and held a hand up. "Scout's honor."

"…You're a Girl Scout?" I could picture him quirking an eyebrow skeptically at me. Even Kenny looked a little curious.

I shrugged. "I _was_ eight years ago. That really shouldn't make that much of a difference right now."

"I guess not…" Kyle said as he tentatively got up and faced me again. I smiled at him comfortingly, while he smiled back tentatively.

When he stood up right, I finally took in his costume. His skin was paler than usual, due to the help of powder, and he was wearing a black cape with red satin on the inside. And when he grinned, I saw plastic fangs poking out of his mouth.

"Cool, a vampire," I said, impressed.

Kyle shrugged nonchalantly. "Thought I'd for a classic. What do you guys think?"

Kenny and I both inspected him with squinted, thoughtful eyes. I was the first one to make my summation.

"Cuter than Edward, yet not quite a Lestat."

Kenny looked at me. "Which Lestat? Tom Cruise Lestat or that awful knock off in _Queen of the Damned_?"*

"Tom Cruise, of course. You know, the Tom Cruise that existed before he, well…"

"Before he went to that stupid 'religion' that was just created by a science fiction author for the sake of making more money?" Kyle added dryly.*

I blinked. "…I was going to say, 'before he went completely psycho over Katie Holmes and Oprah's couch', but that's true too."

The two boys laughed a little at my joke, which made me feel warm all over. It was almost like I was back in New York again—well, okay, maybe it didn't feel like that, but it was close to the feeling. By now it had seemed as if Kyle had stopped disliked me, for whatever reason he had, and there was something akin to a mutual understanding between us. That's almost as good as friendship to me.

"Well, well, isn't this nice?"

I stiffened at the voice behind me, and I whipped around to glare up at Cartman, who was smirking back at me. The music was paused as the rest of the partiers stopped and stared at the two of us, going silent. Even Craig had gone quiet.

"What the fuck are you supposed to be?" he sneered at my costume.

I did the same to him. I couldn't even tell what, or who he was. "Something obviously better than you. What'd you do, steal the clothes off a mental patient?"

Because that's what his costume looked like, the clothes of a mental patient I mean. A really psychotic mental patient, if the red splotches of "blood" on his white shirt was any indication.

Cartman looked insulted. "You really are a stupid bitch, aren't you?"

"If so, then you are a stupid asshole," I said coldly, clenching my hands. I tried not to jump over and give him the punch he deserved.

He rolled his eyes and pulled out a mask and put it over his face. It covered his nose and mouth, but had four slit holes where he could breathe. I immediately recognized it, and it made me scowl.

I stuck my nose in the air like a snob. "You are not worthy of even _trying_ to imitate Lector. He's too good for that."

He scoffed, removing his mask. "What the fuck ever, bitch. Are we going to do this or not?"

"I'm ready when you are." I shrugged nonchalantly.

I heard Kyle sigh exasperatedly behind me, but I ignored him. As much as I liked him and might have wanted to impress him, my pride was my first priority here. I needed to drop Cartman down a peg (or maybe a couple of pegs), or at least try anyway. I was very aware of his possible advantage over me. He was bigger and could probably last a while.*

Good thing that I was experienced enough to probably last as long as he would.

In a matter of minutes, the two of us were sitting across from each other at a table set up by Bebe. The music had gone back on, since there were a handful of partiers who weren't really interested in the contest. The rest of them stayed to watch as they surrounded us. They all started cheering and some jeering for either of us.

Basically, your typical high school drinking contest. You would get a better idea if you'd ever seen, or been in, one.*

Kenny was the one who poured the rum into our shot glasses, because neither I nor Cartman trusted each other enough to have either of us pour our glasses. You never knew what your opponent could put inside your drink in order to win. Though I didn't know him that well, I knew of Cartman enough (courtesy of Kyle) to know that he would play dirty if given the chance.

As Kenny poured rum into my glass, Kyle walked up to me, looking worried.

"You really don't have to do this, Lisa." He had told me for about the thousandth time that week.

"Yes, yes I do," I replied with finality. "I have to beat him."

That made the boy pause and blink down at me. His green eyes clouded with this odd emotion that I couldn't read, but it got me worried anyway. I looked back at him, wondering what was wrong.

"Whoa, déjà vu," he murmured softly.

I felt my brow crinkle. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, also looking confused. "It's nothing." Kyle leaned forward to whisper in my ear. "Be sure to kick his ass."

I nodded at him before he walked back to join the masses, and then I faced my opponent, who stared back at me.

"Okay, on your marks," Kenny began, one of his arms lifted in the air. "Get ready…"

Cartman and I both reached for our shot glasses.

"…Set…"

I briefly stared down at the amber, gold-ish* liquid, as if regarding an old friend, which it was, in a way.

You know, the type of friend you learned to hate with such a passion that you never wanted to see them again.

"Drink!"

With no hesitation I tipped the shot glass back in my mouth and downed the rum, even as it left a slight burn in my throat. Once I was finished I set the glass down on the table again, cringing a bit. It had been a long time.

Cartman, who was also done with his glass, glared across at me as Kenny poured again. I glared back.

I could already tell then that it was going to be a long night.

* * *

Oh God, (puts hand over face) I've created a hormonal, teenage monster.

Lisa isn't meant to seem like a ho, if anyone's thinking that. She just…_appreciates_ cute guys. A lot.

(Sad thing is that she can't flirt for her life…. And she isn't really all that smart, like she probably thinks she is. Her competitiveness is proof of that.

Lisa: Hey!

Me: Shut up you, and get back in the closet!)

But come on, she's sixteen. Who _wasn't_ boy crazy like that at that age, at least to some degree?

You know…besides all you hormonal teenage lesbians and bi-curious out there. (Don't worry, I don't judge. Get your les on for all I care.)

Anyway:

*Okay, tell me I'm not the only one who said this when they saw the South Park movie. Seriously, this was me sitting on the couch when I saw Kenny without his hood:

"O.O…FTW?! He has a _face_?!"

*No, I do not hate _Queen of the Damned_. I just didn't like the actor who dared to play Lestat. I probably would have if he actually put some effort to actually _look_ like the Brat Prince (his eyes weren't even blue or grey, and his hair wasn't even that blonde).

*Believe it or not, this is the truth about Scientology, at least most of it. Hubbard really was a sci-fi writer. Whether or not he genuinely believed in his religion and didn't just use his followers for money could be argued amongst you all.

*Thank you SharadaGirl for pointing this out.

*I want to make this clear: I have never gone to a stereotypical high school parties. I'm basically going by what I've seen in movies.

*Yes, this is what Bacardi Oro looks like. I'm not too sure about the taste though. I've only had Bacardi Coco, and that was only one drink. (shudders) After that, I swear to God I will only drink for special occasions, like weddings and crap like that. I can't stand the taste of alcohol…

And as for the whole "Resa" thing, yes there is a bit of angst in Lisa's past, which includes Resa. Some of you have probably figured it out, since it's been done so many times before. I apologize for the cliche, but before you stone me, please think of it this way. I could have made Lisa like this:

"Oh god, my life is totally miserable due to _one_ tragic event! I'm going to go to my emo corner to slit my wrists, hate the rest world for my problems, and be overall miserable without doing anything improve my life!"

...Yeah, because we all know how productive _that_ mindset is. I mean just look at Bella in _New Moon_.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: The Party Pt. 2**

About probably a million (_NO_, this is not an exaggeration…at least I don't _think_ so………_oh_, I don't feel so good……) shots and couple of hours later, along with a couple of empty bottles of rum on the floor, Cartman and I were still standing…….

Well, okay, we weren't _standing_—we were _sitting_. See there's a _difference_ between the two. Besides, even if the two of us tried to stand, our legs would immediately give in, or at least mine would. It would probably take a few more seconds for Cartman to fall.

To put in laymen's terms: We had both started to feel the effects of the alcohol.

But……

"What's wrong Claudia?" Cartman slurred with a slight smirk. "Getting _tired_?"

I smirked back. "Dream on fat ass……and the name is _Claudio_. _Lisa_ Claudio."

With that said, I downed another glass of rum, no longer cringing from the taste. After the second drink it had been easy to adapt to the familiar taste.

My stomach lurched, making me wince slightly. I had tried to hide it, but Cartman must have seen because he laughed at me, sounding stupider than he probably intended.

"You should just give up while you're ahead new girl," he taunted. "If you're nice, I promise I'll be a good master."

I glared at him defiantly. "Never."

So you can see, as typical of any stupid competition between teenagers, neither of us was willing to back down. It was probably the most annoying and boring thing South Park's local teenagers had ever seen. I think they expected one of us to act like a complete idiot (probably me, mostly, since none of them knew how I took alcohol). A lot of the crowd had dispersed; leaving only Bebe, Butters, Kyle, Kenny and Craig there (he needed to keep record of who would win of course). That was fine with me though. I didn't really like the attention much to begin with.

As I sipped my re-filled shot, I observed Cartman as he drank his. I took notice that his eyes were slightly lidded and his body looked like it would fall to the floor if you poked it. My body probably looked the same, but still, this observation made me feel smug.

With that thought in mind, I suddenly felt that I needed to change my strategy a bit. If I could get him to talk and talk about something, then maybe he could talk himself to sleep, which would automatically make me the winner. So, I started looking around the room, trying to look for something that could be the start of a conversation.

There was one picture in the room that finally caught my eye. It was sitting on a mantelpiece, with a bouquet of flowers in a vase beside it. The porcelain frame it was in said something akin to "We miss you" or something like that. I'm not too sure; I couldn't really see it that clearly from the distance.

It was a picture of a tall, buff (drool…) teenage boy wearing a red and blue poof-ball hat. Standing right beside him, with her hand on his arm, was a black haired teenage girl wearing a light purple coat and a beret (dude, who's that ho with _my_ husband?!). They both looked happy, and they were obviously in a relationship if their lack of distance was any indication.

"Who are they?"

Cartman looked confused, as did our small audience. I lifted a hand and pointed at the picture, and they all turned their heads to follow my finger. When they all finally stopped moving their heads, I knew that they realized where I was looking.

And I swear to God, they all flinched _in unison_.

"That's Stan Marsh and Wendy Testaburger."

I blinked at the change of Cartman's tone. It suddenly went from arrogant to…emotionless—the word "empty" is probably the best way to describe it really. When I looked at him more closely, I noticed that his brown eyes seemed to have gone hazy with memory, and one of his hands clenched into a tight fist, his skin nearly turning white.

From the corner of my eye, I could see that Kyle's head was bent forward to the point that I couldn't see his eyes under his red curls. Kenny had turned away, his hands in his pockets. Bebe looked close to crying, and Butters kept knocking his knuckles together, the picture of nervousness. Even Craig looked a little awkward, and I didn't think he was capable of feeling _anything_, since he always looked and sounded so emotionless, even when he was flipping you the bird.

I saw all these things, yet I ignored it all.

It was probably one of the stupidest mistakes I have ever made in my young life, and, trust me, I've made many. This goes in the top five.

Personally, I blame the rum.

"Stan is the one who transferred somewhere, right?" I asked.

Cartman visible tensed.

_"Transferred…?"_

When he looked back at me, I felt something akin to ice surround my heart, whose beats had quickened. His face terrified me right then. He looked so…angry and hateful, almost to the point of looking murderous. I immediately shrank back in my seat.

"Who told you he transferred?" he growled.

I couldn't respond, I felt so scared. That only made it worse.

_"Who?!"_

My eyes shifted around the room, unintentionally landing on Kyle.

Cartman smirked. "So it was Kyle."

My eyes widened. I didn't want Kyle to get hurt. "No, I—!"

"Yeah, I told her that," Kyle's cool voice said. "So what?"

He snorted. "Typical Jew. Can't even be honest to save his life."

Kyle bristled. "_Shut your fucking mouth, Cartman._"

I started hugging myself, rubbing up and down my arms. Did it just drop twenty degrees, or was it just me?

"Well, since you haven't told her the truth, I guess I'll have to be the one of us to." Cartman looked pretty smug, though I detected some bitterness in that smirk of his.

Then again, it could have been my imagination.

"Fat ass, _don't_."

Cartman waved Kyle's command off. "Fuck off, Jew rat. Let me tell the story. I'm sure she'd just _love _to hear it."

He turned back to look at me, a shadow going over his face. He looked like the typical story telling host—the kind you'd see on those horror shows, such as _Night Gallery_, or _The Twilight Zone_.

"It all happened about a year ago," he began. "When Stan Marsh and Wendy Testaburger mysteriously disappeared."

My eyes widened. _Disappeared…?_

"It had been during this chilly season of autumn, in late October—just several days shy of Halloween. Things had gone on as usual in South Park prior to that day," Cartman gestured to everyone in the room. "I was still making fun of the Jew, who pathetically kept trying to beat me…"

"God damn it, Cartman!"

"…Kenny was still a poor ass dying and coming back everyday (he still is, but that's not the point), Bebe was still leader of the girls, Butters was still as gullible and stupid as always, and Craig was…Craig, as always."

Said boy flipped him the bird, though he didn't say anything else.

Cartman ignored him. "Basically, everything in South Park was normal—as normal as this fucked up town could get anyway. That being said, no one could have ever foretold what would happen on October 22, 2008…"

"W-was that the day they disappeared?"

It was such a stupid question, but I asked it anyway. Stuttering, no less—I hadn't wanted to show him how his story was affecting me. It was pretty scary. Why hadn't I been told this stuff?

Smirking, Cartman clapped his hands in a mock applause. "Very good, _Lisa_. You're smarter than you look."

I scowled. "Just tell me what happened." Despite my fear, _I wanted to know_.

"Apparently, Stan had gotten a note from someone to meet them at Stark's Pond," he explained. "Wendy went with him to keep him company—at least, that was the police's guess.

"They didn't come home that night."

I almost expected there to be thunder and lightening. It looked like the perfect scene for it. Cartman was smirking at me, watching for my reaction. Other than that, no one else was looking at us, and no one was even speaking. I think I even saw Butters cover his ears and shut his eyes, which looked tearful. This topic was obviously still too painful for them. I understood that as well, but I wanted to know the rest. It wasn't even about the drinking contest anymore. I just needed to know what this town was keeping a secret from me and my family.

I let out a shaky breath. "What happened to them?"

"There's the odd thing. No one knows what happened to them." Cartman shrugged, looking nonchalant, though his eyes told a different story.

"No one that is, except for _Wendy Testaburger_."

I quirked an eyebrow, confused. "I thought she disappeared along with Stan."

"She did. But then she came back."

From out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bebe tense. Something tells me that she and Wendy had once been friends.

When he saw my confused look, he elaborated. "She was found wandering in the forest a few months after the two of them vanished, in January. It was said that she had been wearing some strange clothes, the kind of clothes meant for a hospital patient."

As he said it, I could practically see it.

_Wendy walking barefoot slowly through the forest, her black hair swaying in the wind, some locks getting in her face, hiding her eyes from the rest of the world._

_Hiding what she_ knew_._

_Her white hospital gown probably torn and tattered in some places, revealing some bruises on her body._

_(Bruises from what…?)_

_And in her hand…_

"It was also said she was clutching something tightly in her hand…"

I almost knew what he was going to say before he said it, because _I could just picture it_…

"…That 'something' was a blood stained red and blue poof ball hat."

Glass crashed to the ground, making us all jump and gasp. The tension in Cartman's story was probably getting to all of us. We looked at the source of the noise to see a sheepish looking Kenny crouching down and picking up the glasses from a broken, but empty, rum bottle.

"Sorry about that," he said softly.

It could have been just the drink messing with me, but I could have sworn Kenny was staring at me. I couldn't read what that face was saying though, it was unreadable.

We stared at him for a couple of minutes, until Cartman cleared his throat, scowling slightly.

"May I continue?"

Kenny regarded him with cool eyes. "Don't you think we've all had enough of this tonight, or _ever_, in fact?"

"But I haven't even gotten to the good part," Cartman whined back.

I didn't say it, but I wanted to hear the rest. I still don't know why, but I did.

Now, I wish I hadn't even heard the name Stan Marsh.

Kenny stared at Cartman for a few moments, and then he turned his head, focusing back on the broken glass on the floor. Kyle got on his gloves, crouched down and helped him, obviously wanting to ignore the conversation. I had wanted to go and help them, but Cartman speaking again held my focus.

"Anyway, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted…" I saw Kenny's shoulder twitch slightly. If Cartman noticed, he didn't care.

"Naturally, Wendy's reappearance was seen as a breakthrough in the case," he continued. "Investigators had gone to Hell's Pass Hospital, where she was being held (she had been slightly malnourished and exhausted) to interrogate her about Stan's whereabouts.

"And you wanna know something about that girl?"

I leaned forward to hear him. As I did, I saw that Bebe's fists were clenched to the point that her skin had gone white.

Suddenly, Cartman burst out laughing out of nowhere. As he threw his head back, I felt that icy fear around my heart again. He saw my look and laughed even more, as if my fear fed him or something. The rest of the people in the room looked at him coolly, though Bebe looked ready to kill him. He noticed, but didn't care (or at least show it). He just laughed it off.

"Oh come on, guys," Cartman chuckled. "Don't tell me you don't find it so _fucking ironic _that it's hilarious!"

No one voiced their agreements or disagreements with his statement. I clenched my hands, feeling a strange mixture of fear and adrenaline course through me.

"The only witness to Stan's vanishing, and she's now certified as_ insane_…!"

_"Shut your fucking mouth, you fat fuck!"_

I shrunk back at Bebe's shrieking. Her eyes were burning fire, and her face was twisted in rage. I swallowed softly, glad that her murderous glare wasn't directed at me. Cartman didn't look fazed though. In fact, when he looked back at Bebe, he looked bored, if not a little annoyed.

"Come on Bebe, you can't deny it. You've even visited her! None of what she says makes any sense at all," he added softly, almost sounding sad.

"That still doesn't make her crazy!" Bebe's voice cracked. "Wendy is our friend! We don't know what she went through in…wherever the hell she was. We should be helping her! We should…we _should_…"

Her lip trembled, indicating that she couldn't take anymore. She immediately turned about face and ran out of the room.

My eyes widened as worry rose to my chest. I immediately tried standing up, though my legs felt boneless. "Bebe…?"

"I'll go get her," Kyle said softly as he got up. Then he went after Bebe, calling her name. As he did, I found myself hoping that she would be fine, rather than feeling jealous of her. It would have been ridiculous to be jealous of her after that emotional display.

"Well now that that's over," Cartman smirked, folding his arms behind his head.

I finally glared at him, not wanting to hear anymore. If this talk was just going to make people cry, I didn't want to hear anymore. "I think I've heard enough."

"No." His grin widened as his eyes narrowed. He lifted up his index finger and wagged it to me. "No you haven't. We haven't even gotten to the rest of the Marsh family yet.

"Or how you and your family connect to the story."

My own eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"What? When I mentioned the rest of the Marsh family, or your family?"

"…Both."

He laughed darkly. "You'd just _love_ to know, wouldn't you Claudio?"

I glared at him coldly, giving my answer silently. I wanted to know what my family had to do with any of this.

"Well, you can only guess what Stan's parents were feeling at this time. Even his own sister was worried," he explained. "When it was obvious that Wendy wouldn't be that much help to the investigation, the Marsh family had gotten desperate.

"Could you blame them for taking the search for Stan in their own hands?"

My eyes widened at that. So his family tried to search for him themselves…

_But what happened to them…? Did they quit? Or…or…_

**_…Or…?_**

"They went into the forest where Wendy was found with their family dog leading the way," he continued.

Once again, I could picture it. I seem to have a good imagination when it comes to these things.

_Three dark figures, two being the parents and another being an older sister, wandering inside a forest, following a dog that was following the scent on the poof ball hat, calling their lost one's name…_

_"Stan!"_

_"Stan, where are you?"_

"That had been the last time anyone in South Park had seen the Marsh family."

My eyes widened. _What does that mean…? That the entire family just went into the forest and disappeared? But that's…_

"Impossible," I said. "A whole family can't just…vanish like that! You're making that up." _He_ _has to be. He just wants to fuck with my mind…_

Cartman quirked an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Yes really. I bet that family just moved away and never came back."

I smirked to myself. I was certain I had caught him in the act now.

At least until:

"…If that's_ true_, then explain why they left their furniture intact, as if they were going to come right back?"

This threw me.

"What? No, you're lying, you've gotta be…"

Cartman glared. "I'm _not_ lying…at least, not this time. I even have Kyle and Kenny as witnesses." When my eyes widened, he smirked. "Yeah, I bet those assholes didn't tell you that little detail did they?"

"Cartman," Kenny warned in a growl.

"Oh, just shut up, poor ass. Let me tell it…"

**_Flashback_**

_Kyle knocked on the door. "Mr. Marsh? Mrs. Marsh? Are you guys in there?"_

_Cartman scoffed. "Forget it Jew, they aren't home. They're probably out somewhere doing…something."_

_Kenny put a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Yeah, I bet they're fine," was his muffled reassurance through his hood._

_Kyle's eyes narrowed. "But no one's seen them for weeks now, not even Shelley. I can't help but feel that something is…_wrong_."_

_Without hesitating anymore, he lifted up the welcome mat in front of the door and got out the spare key. As he inserted it into the lock, Cartman rolled his eyes. He obviously didn't see Kyle's worry as a big deal. He was stubbornly sticking to his theory that the Marsh's were out, probably trying to have fun or something. That family deserved it after all, after all the crap happening to them recently. In contrast to Cartman, Kenny's expression was illegible._

_When the door opened, the boys saw that the entire house was dark. When they stepped inside, they were acutely aware of a rank smell._

_"Oh, ew, what the fuck is that?" Cartman said nasally, since he was holding his nose._

_"I don't know," Kyle replied, his voice muffled since he brought the collar of his orange jacket up to his nose. His eyes widened when he realized something. "Hey fat ass, do you hear that?"_

_"Don't call me fat you fucking Jew! And _no_, I don't hear a damn thing."_

_"Exactly. _Nothing._ Not even the sound of Sparky barking."_

_"…So?"_

_Kyle glared. "_So_ fat ass, don't you think this is a little odd? It means that no one is here."_

_Cartman shrugged. "Like I said, they could have all gone out somewhere. They'll probably be back in a few hours."_

_"I don't think so."_

_Kyle and Cartman jumped a little at Kenny's grim voice. They turned to where it came from to see him standing in the kitchen with his hood down, staring into the refrigerator. He regarded them with solemn eyes and waved them to come over. As they did, the smell got worse, but both boys became aware of the source of the smell._

_"What a waste." Cartman shook his head at the furry, rotted food. _

_"Kenny, how long?" Kyle hesitantly asked._

_"Two weeks would be my best guess," he replied. "But it might have been longer."_

_Kyle's eyes widened. "Jesus Christ…where did they _go_?"_

_Kenny shrugged, his eyes looking sad and lost. _

_"I wish I knew Kyle. Really I do."_

**_End Flashback_**

Cartman blinked slowly as he finished telling me about that afternoon. He didn't even smirk or sneer. His face was practically expressionless.

"I don't believe you," I said, though there was something about that that made my heart jump. "There was no furniture when my parents looked at the house."

He blinked, and then he shrugged. "Of course there weren't. After like two months of searching for them, there was obviously no point in keeping that furniture if no one was going to claim it anytime soon, or _ever_, in fact, so we gave their stuff away. Then there was also the real estate value of the house, you can't forget that. Despite anyone else's opinion, the house was immediately up for sale.

"And wouldn't you just _imagine_," he smiled with mock sweetness, "about a couple weeks later, the real estate agent for the Marsh home got an offer from a couple in New York. A couple who have a _daughter_."

I tensed, feeling my mouth go dry.

"Now, I don't know all the details," Cartman continued, as if he wasn't talking about me. "But apparently, the family had gone through something very…_tragic_, and needed to start over."

My eyes widened. _No fucking way! He can't possibly know—can he?_

I decided that I'd beat it out of him later.

"Real estate agent accepts the offer and shows them the house. They end up liking it, and they immediately buy the house, without any knowledge of the original owners. Just last month they moved in, and when they did people in South Park began to…talk.

" 'Oh, have you met that new family? The ones who live in the Marsh house now?'," Cartman made his voice go a pitch higher, sounding like the stereotypical gossip. " 'Why, yes I have! They are awfully nice. Have you met their girl?'

'Mm-hm, I have. She is such a sweetheart, so down-to-earth.'

'She sort of _reminds_ me of that poor boy, **Stanley Marsh**.' "

I blinked. _What the hell…?_

" 'I know what you mean'," he continued his imitation. " 'I look at that girl's mother and I see **Sharon Marsh **in those eyes'."

I swallowed my saliva, trying to get the moisture back in my throat.

" 'Even her father reminds me a little of **Randy Marsh**. He's a scientist or something too, right—?' "

"What's your point, Cartman?!" I snapped, making Butters cringe from across the room. When I noticed, I lowered my tone. "What are you trying to say?"

Cartman smirked as he chuckled evilly. "Come on, Claudio, I know you know what I mean. Surely you noticed it your first week here." He started to count off his fingers.

"The way people stared at you and your family.

"The way Kyle was cold to you initially.

"They way _everyone _regards you all as."

I growled, "And what do they regard us as?"

He blinked, and then grinned toothily.

"Replacements for the Marsh family, of course."

I blinked back, taken aback. When he saw that, Cartman turned his head and looked at Butters.

"Get me a pen and paper, Butters," he ordered.

Butters looked surprised, but quickly recovered as he left the room. "Y-y-yes, Eric."

I narrowed my eyes. I didn't like how he ordered Butters around like a slave. "What do you need the pen and paper for?"

He didn't answer me until he got what he wanted, and then started writing something down on the paper. "Think about it Claudio: there's you, your mom, your dad, and now your little pet snake. That's already _four_ spaces filled."

"Spaces?" I asked.

Cartman just slid the paper across the table over to me. I looked down at it, and my eyes widened at the list that was written down.

_Lisa Claudio—Stan Marsh_

_Sonia Claudio—Sharon Marsh_

_Vincent Claudio—Randy Marsh_

_?—Shelley Marsh_

_Snake—Dog_

I grasped the list in my hands, crinkling it slightly in my shaking hands. I slowly realized what the fat ass was trying to say. As I did, I felt scared—more scared than I had ever felt on any Halloween night.

"Just think," Cartman taunted. "If you had a sister or brother, your family could serve as the Marsh family's perfect _replacements_."

I didn't want to, but I was obligated to ask. The thing is that I couldn't look up. I was afraid of what I would see in not only Cartman's eyes, but everyone else's. After all, they could share the same opinion.

"…Replacements for what?"

"Take it as you want to. Either way, you and your family are their replacements."

I narrowed my eyes down at the list, still not looking up at Cartman.

_Do you all just see us as parallels of the Marsh family and dislike us because we bring up old wounds?_

**_Or…_**

_Are we going to be put in the Marsh's place so that they could be returned to South Park…?_

I lifted my eyes from the list to glare up at him. "Are you threatening my family, fat ass?"

He snorted. "Please Claudia. At any other time, you'd probably be right in your assumptions, but _I'm not the threat here_, believe it or not.

"Although I advise you to be wary…"

Cartman paused with a smirk, probably for dramatic effect, the fat bastard. I glared right back at him.

"…There might be _someone else_ in South Park who _loves_ to get their hands just as dirty as I do."

* * *

Yeah, that was probably not as realistic as I would have liked, but oh well. This is South Park--is anything in this series realistic _at all_?

Anyway:

The disappearance of the Marsh family has finally been revealed! And, as hinted by Cartman, Lisa's family may be next. He says that he's not the threat to her family, but could it possibly be true? Knowing him, it's most likely...not (or is it? XD). Either way, this chapter raises some very good questions:

What happened to Stan and his family?

Who's the mastermind behind this?

What's his/her plan?

Better yet, do they even _have _a plan?

Who's been writing those notes to Lisa?

What do the numbers mean?

Am I just making this stuff up as I move along? (hee hee, _maybe_, who knows? Only _I_ know the answer to all XD)

_~And the most important question of them all:_

Who wins the fucking drinking contest?!

...And why are you asking _me_? It's not like I'm going to tell you. That would totally ruin everything. The answers will be revealed though, trust me.

Besides, wouldn't it be fun if you guys just try and come up with theories on your own? That's the whole point of a fushigi mystery (strange mystery, I think; if any of you have watched/read Mythical Detective Loki Ragnorak, then you will get this anime reference)! So go ahead, send me your theories through your reviews. Just don't ask any questions that will spoil the plot or the ending, and we'll be good.


	7. Chapter 6

**Warning: Disturbing imagery and scenes near the end of this chapter. (At least, I think they are disturbing, and I wrote the damn thing.) **

**By the time you finish reading this, you might consider me to be slightly sick in the head. **

**Some of you might even think there is a little too much drama and angst—but I honestly don't care at the moment. Someone I know just died recently, so forgive me if this chapter might reveal some of what I'm feeling right now—meaning bitchy and depressed.**

**Remember, you have been warned.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Dirty Hands**

I felt my stomach twist, and I immediately groaned in the passenger seat.

"If you're gonna throw up, please do it outside the window," Kyle pleaded in the driver's seat, grasping the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry for this," I moaned out for like the thousandth time.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "It was either you, or the fat ass. It was obvious who my choice was going to be."

I giggled, flushing slightly. Yeah, I must have been so wasted.

"Ha-ha, yes! Victory to me," I squealed like a child. "Lila 1; Helga 0."

Kyle quirked an eyebrow at me comparing myself to Lila, and Cartman to Helga (ha, I own his ass now, asshole! Nyah).

"…the fuck?" he asked softly.

"Marry me, Arnold!" I cried out dramatically.

He sighed as he made a left turn. "Do you always randomly flirt with guys when you're drunk?"

I blinked, giggling slightly. "Not _always_. There was this one time when I flirted with a lady who looked like a dude."

"…Don't you mean a dude who looked like a lady?"

I quickly remembered the event in question and flushed with embarrassment.

"…_No_, she was definitely a lady who looked like a dude."

Yeah, it wasn't exactly one of my…best moments. I mean, you try explaining to your friends how much the butch you were accidentally flirting with (while drunk, to top it off) looked like a man, especially when their chest is flat. If you've ever been in this situation, or at least something similar, then you'd know that you wouldn't really realize that the manly looking woman is a woman until you get close enough to realize their lack of a man's…thingy.

…Yeah—talk about _awkward_.

…

Look, just use your imagination, okay!

"Dude, that was some party, right?" I decided to change the subject.

"Yeah, some party."

I pulled on a feigned tearful face. "I can't believe that I lost."

He shrugged. "More like tied. Cartman and you collapsed at about the same time."

Kyle's voice sounded far off, as if he was in deep thought. I wondered what he could be thinking about. Was he thinking about Stan, where he was, and what had happened to him? The two of them seemed pretty close; from the way he reacted to Cartman's anecdote. In a way, Kyle sort of reminds me of…

"I understand you know."

Kyle glanced at me, bemused. "What do you mean?"

I smiled wearily. "I lost someone too. Just recently, really."

He stayed silent, but I continued anyway. It's not like I wanted to talk about it; the words just slipped out freely. Stuff like that tends to happen when your inhibitions are dulled by alcohol.

"She was my sister—my older twin sister. Her name was Teresa, but I called her Resa because then our names sounded more 'twin-like'." I turned my head to look out the window, my mind going off to somewhere else. "We were closer than close—more than best friends close. No matter how much we might have fought, we would still come back together, because, besides our parents, we were all each other had. Friends come and go, but sisters are forever—no matter how much you try to run from it.

"In a way, we were dependant on each other—at least, I was. Resa was the first person I'd go to if I had a problem—she always seemed to know what's best."

In my mind's eye, I saw her face—the face that was just like mine—in my memory. We were five years old, standing on the drive way of our house. I had fallen and scraped my knee, but Resa was right there to pick me up with a smile…

"Eight months ago, we were at this party. The two of us loved to party." I smiled wistfully. "Well, it was mostly Resa who liked to party; she was a bit of a wild child. I was kind of the wall flower of the two of us. But she'd give me enough confidence to go out on the dance floor, drink liquor, flirt with guys, and mingle with people I don't know.

"Anyway, we were with my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend," I corrected briskly. "Not only had Resa and I been drinking, but he had been also. He didn't tell us that though when we got in his car to go home…"

His face rose in my memory too, making an immediate surge of anger go through me. It's not like he was a horrible guy to be with; he was actually very sweet. He was part of one of the few Italian American families in our neighborhood, where mostly Hispanics resided (my family included), and he was really nice. He had soft brown curls, blue eyes that looked gray in the right light, and a cute baby face that matched his personality. I remember that he was a good guy to be with, and that I had liked him a lot—I wouldn't have given it up to him if he wasn't worth it.

And yet, whenever I think about him now, all I feel is rage and unforgiving bitterness, because I couldn't help but feel that _it just fucking wasn't fair_ that he was alive while my sister died…

Yes, I know how cold and bitchy that might sound. But would you forgive him for taking away a close, loved relative of yours? No matter how you think you would react, I highly doubt that you _know_ that you wouldn't be as harsh as me. Maybe you would forgive him one day—but right _now_, when the grief is still fresh? I don't think so. It's the same with me.

I probably won't ever forgive him; just like how I probably won't ever forgive myself.

Blinking back to reality, I turned from the window to look at Kyle, who was looking ahead at the road with an illegible facial expression.

"I'm not telling you this because I want you to feel sorry for me," I said, my voice sounding steadier than I physically felt. "I just want you to know that I kind of understand your loss. I find that it's better than pity, or sympathy."

"…I know." After a slight pause, Kyle sighed and glanced at me. "Thanks."

I smiled. "No problem."

There was a brief silence between us as he parked in front of my house. Then I turned to face him. I bit my lip nervously, looking up into his eyes, fearful of what emotion I might find.

"Do you hate me?"

Kyle blinked, and then he sighed. "No. I just want my best friend back, that's all."

I nodded, understanding. Then I opened the door and stepped out of the car, my shoes crunching the snow underneath. Kyle got out soon after, following close behind me.

"Do you need help getting inside?"

"Nah—I'll be okay—ah!" I nearly tripped but caught myself in time. I looked at Kyle over my shoulder sheepishly. "Please? Just in case."

He smiled with amusement and then put a supporting arm around my shoulders. I almost cuddled in his warm arms, but I stood upright and just leaned on him a little so I wouldn't trip over my feet. When we got the door open (I had given Kyle my house keys from inside the mailbox to use), we found that my house was dark and empty—at least on the first floor.

"Mom? Dad?" I called when the door closed.

Silence was my reply.

My eyes widened as panic surged through me. Cartman's words echoed in my mind:

_"…your family could serve as the Marsh family's perfect _replacements_."_

My whole body went numb.

_What if someone took them away? _

All I could hear in my house was the harsh pounding of my heart.

_………And now they're waiting for me inside my house to "complete the set"?! _

Harsh, hyperventilating breaths escaped me as my eyes darted across the living room, searching for any human-like movement in the darkness.

Suddenly, I felt so faint that I could barely stand, but I gripped the door behind me to steady myself. I swear to God, I felt foreign eyes on me—watching me…waiting.

And then…

"Don't worry, Lisa. They're just out to a party."

I looked at Kyle and remembered that I was not alone. That made me relax my tense body somewhat, but what really gave me relief was the note in his hand. It was written in my mother's handwriting, saying that she and Dad would be back early in the morning, which was probably an hour from now. That way, they won't ever know that I was drunk that night.

I looked at Kyle, realizing that he must have known that I was stressing or freaking out. "Thanks, Kyle."

He shrugged. "No problem, but don't let what Cartman said bother you. He probably just wanted to psyche you out."

"…So, what he said wasn't true?"

"Not exactly." He scratched the back of his head, avoiding my eyes. "He just likes to exaggerate a lot, make it sound as if it's some kind of conspiracy. Personally, I don't believe anything he says."

Now that I look back on it, it was obvious that he was lying.

But I didn't acknowledge it then anyway.

"Is it okay if you help me up to my room?" I asked shyly.

Kyle nodded nonchalantly. "Sure."

Once we were up in my room, I wobbled onto my bed and collapsed on top of it, sighing happily. It felt good to be home.

As I lay on my bed, close to falling asleep, I heard Kyle walk around the room.

"Love what you've done with the place," he said, somewhat sarcastically.

"I felt that it needed a feminine touch." I referred to the newly painted walls and stuff.

Kyle hummed thoughtfully as he walked around more. From the corner of my eye, I saw him lean towards my new pet snake with an amused smile.

"You actually kept it?"

I lifted my head somewhat to look at him. "Of course; I love snakes—well, the harmless ones."

"What do you call it?"

"…Resa."

Kyle glanced at me with unreadable eyes, and then he shifted his gaze back to the snake.

"…I see," he said softly.

Finally, he stood up. "Well, I guess I'll just be going now—"

Something in the corner of my room made Kyle pause.

And, as I watched him, his face grew sickly pale (well, paler I guess).

"Lisa, w-what are those?"

He pointed at a few pieces of paper on the floor, and I immediately recalled what they were.

"Oh, those are just…notes I've been getting," I said, somewhat nervously.

Kyle didn't say anything at first. He just slowly walked over to the pile of notes, picked them up, and then looked at each one intently. I sat up on my bed, watching his face closely—but he revealed no facial reaction.

"I think they are just a joke, so it really isn't a big deal," I lied flippantly. "I mean, they really have no meaning at all—ha-ha—all they say is 'Get out of South Park! Now!' and then there is always a different number on the bottom. They're just stupid pranks."

Yes, I was rambling, I know. I also probably shouldn't have told him about them; because there was always a chance that he was the culprit. Unfortunately, I wasn't in my right state of mind, so once I talked about something, I couldn't stop (hence why I also talked about my sister). Once again, I personally blame the rum.

"…Did you get a fourth one yesterday?"

I blinked at his tone; it was so…monotonous.

"Um, no, I didn't."

Kyle's fingers twitched. "Does anyone else know about these notes?"

I shook my head, even though his back was to me, so he couldn't see. "No. Not even my own parents."

He turned to look at me, making me freeze. His eyes were so dull, yet so intense—as if he knew something already. It scared me.

Finally, after a moment of us staring at each other, Kyle sighed. "I see."

When he directed his gaze to the window, his eyes widened.

I looked out the window also, and saw someone across the street from my house. Snow had started to steadily fall down, mimicking the typical December night depicted in movies and cartoons. Despite that however, I could still see the dark shadow of someone there. I narrowed my eyes and tried to make out the shape of the person.

It was a girl, I realized.

A girl with long black hair that swayed in the wind, wearing a purple coat and a purple beret. Underneath her coat was a hint of a white sweatshirt that matched her sweat pants.

But her eyes—her eyes were the most different about her. I don't think I've ever seen blue eyes so wide, yet so emotionally dead.

Compared to her image in the picture, she now looked…

_("…certified as _insane_…!")_

I looked up at Kyle, who was still looking out my window.

"That's Wendy, i-isn't it…?" I hesitated, because A) I could have been hallucinating, and B) Kyle's uneasy eyes made me uncomfortable.

Kyle didn't look at me, but he did reply, sounding steady and secure to me. But as I flash to those days, I realize his voice must have been shaking a little.

"No—don't worry about it. Just go to sleep and I'll lock up for you."

He walked out of the room then, not bothering to look back at me. I listened to his footsteps as he walked down the stairs and went to the door.

Once he closed the door to leave, I lay down on my bed and went to sleep, dreaming of numbers, and a certain missing teenage boy…

* * *

The Sunday after Halloween came and went, and soon it was Monday morning.

I walked the South Park High's hallways to get to my homeroom, as usual.

Well, almost as usual.

"…And when you clean my desk, I want it to shine so much that my face reflects back at me," Cartman continued to order.

My eyebrow twitched. "Damn it, Cartman, for the last time: I'm not being your slave!"

The fat boy gave me a mock pout. "But you promised! That was the condition of the contest."

"You didn't win though—we both lost!"

"…What's your point?"

I was ready to pull my hair out, but luckily Butters was there to comfort me on my other side.

"It's all right Lisa." He smiled brightly. "It's really not so bad; you even get used to it after a while."

I stopped walking and just stared at Butters. Cartman did as well, raising an eyebrow.

He stared back, smiling and blinking like a happy little kid.

Finally, I shook my head and walked on, leaving a confused Butters crying out, "What'd I say?"

"Anyway, back to what I was saying," I looked at Cartman, who caught up. "No, I'm not becoming your slave!"

"Why not?" Cartman whined.

"Because the thought of being _anyone_'s slave is not appealing to me."

"But you made a deal, Claudia!"

I scoffed. "Doesn't mean I have to go through with it."

He glared. "Bitch."

I glared back. "Ass."

"Midget."

"Douche."

"Sp-"

I gripped his hair and dragged him down to my eye level. "Don't even say it," I hissed.

"What?" He said "innocently". "You mean _spic_?"

Before I could even do anything, someone already walked up from the side and punched him on the face. In addition, I let go of Cartman's hair and watched as he fell to the floor.

"You just don't know when to quit, do you fat ass?" Kyle said.

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks Kyle."

"No problem."

Cartman, rubbing his bruising cheek, stood up and glared at us both. "Fucking minorities."

**"Fuck you." **We both replied.

With that said and done, we all turned and walked towards homeroom. Once it was in our sights, however, we were all shocked to see everyone (except the teacher) outside of the class. Everyone was murmuring to each other, eyes wide and noses covered.

When we got close, we realized why. There was this rank smell coming from the classroom.

"Ugh, what is that?" I covered my mouth and nose.

Kyle cringed and did the same. "I'm not sure."

"Smells like something died, doesn't it?"

All three of us jumped and turned to see Kenny standing right next to Cartman.

"Damn it po' boy!" Cartman yelled, "How do you do that?"

Kenny smirked. "I have magical powers." He waved his fingers playfully.

"Do you really?" I asked curiously.

I'd only seen him die once, earlier in the month, when this huge truck ran him over. I was the only one upset, because I hadn't "known" at the time. The next day Kenny showed up as if nothing had happened to him. Ever since then, I can't help but think there's something…supernatural about him.

But he shrugged. "I dunno."

My shoulders slumped at the reply.

"Anyway, what's going on?" Kyle asked, gesturing to everyone else.

"Well, as you know already, something in the class stinks," Kenny replied.

"But what?"

"That you'll have to ask Lisa." At my confused look, he added, "Whatever it is, the source is in _your_ desk."

I sighed. "Great. Just perfect." I glanced at Cartman, "Another one of your pranks?"

Cartman blinked back, looking oblivious, and then shook his head.

Not believing him, I rolled my eyes and looked into the classroom as best as I could, since everyone was still crowding it. I groaned softly. No one was going to move unless I got rid of the smell.

Damn it.

"Excuse me, coming through."

I begrudgingly moved through the crowd and got to the door. The smell got worse, almost causing me to gag, so I lifted my collar up to my nose and mouth to filter it out. I walked to my desk, nearly fainting as the smell nearly suffocated me; I felt so lightheaded.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped my desk to lift it up…

…Then dropped it back down in shock.

My collar had fallen down from my face, but I didn't care. I was too stunned and disgusted to acknowledge the smell anymore. Hell, I was too numb to sense anything in my environment. I didn't even notice when some people entered the classroom and gathered around my desk.

"So, what is it?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but only a choked sound escaped me.

"Dude, what's with the new girl?"

"God, it stinks in here!"

"Lisa…?"

_There's no way._ I assured myself. _That had to be an illusion!_

I shakily opened the desk again, certain that what I had seen was my imagination overacting.

As I did, tears gathered in my eyes—whether it was because my eyes were so unnaturally wide by now, or because the sight upset me so much, I'm not sure.

It must have died sometime last night, since none of its fur or external features hadn't completely decayed yet and the blood leaking out of its wounds was still moist. Its eyes were still open, slit pupils surrounded by an appealing shade of green that was glassy and unseeing—so lifeless. Flies and some insects were already crawling out of its orifices, devouring the rotting flesh while it was still fresh.

And, in its gaping jaws was a motionless little bird.

A scream erupted from my side, one that pierced the room into silence. At first, I thought it was me, but I soon registered it as Bebe. She must have joined my side to comfort me or something, only to find distress for herself. I soon heard footsteps rapidly move to my side, trying to get a view of the sight, quickly followed by gasps and exclaims.

"Oh my God…"

"Dude…so fucking sick—and not in the good way!"

"That poor kitty…poor birdie…"

In all the commotion, I suddenly noticed something and gasped.

_The bird was still moving!_

I clamped my gloved hands on the dead cat's mouth and opened it wide—ignoring the slight crack of the frozen corpse—and fished the bird out. It was moving only weakly now, lying on my palms. Its head twitched side to side with half open eyes as its breathing slowed.

"Someone open the window!" I yelled, sounding shriller than I intended.

I heard someone do it and hurried to it as gently as I could. I stared down at the creature in my hands, begging it tearfully.

"Please, _please_ don't….Just a little longer…"

By the time I reached the window though, I was too late.

There was silence then—or, at least, the classroom was as silent as it could have been. There was still the occasional whispered "Holy shit" as everyone realized what had just happened.

I was numb to them though. All I did was stare down at the animal I had failed to save.

Just like how I had failed to save my sister from the inferno of the car crash…

"No."

I shook my head as my knees gave out beneath me, and I sat on the floor. Despite my begging, the bird still didn't move.

"Please, no."

_This bird didn't do anything…it didn't hurt anyone._

_So **why**?_

_And who would be so cruel?_

My hands started to shake.

**_It's not fair._**

_What did it do to deserve death?_

_What did **Resa** ever do to deserve death?_

_Neither of them was bad, as far as I can tell. _

Anger surged through me, making a reddish haze flood the edges of my sight.

_They were both good and innocent..._

Tears of frustration and grief blurred my hazy vision.

_**It's not fair.**_

**_It's not FUCKING fair!!!_**

"Lisa."

I felt the voice's owner put a hand on my shoulder and blinked out of my mental fog. When I looked up, I saw a solemn Kenny kneeling beside me. I numbly watched him shift his gaze to the dead bird and immediately grab it from my hands and put it in a black plastic bag (I'm not sure where he got it).

Once he was done tying the bag in a knot, Kenny looked at me again. "You might want to take off your gloves and throw them away. You don't know what either of _them_ could have left on them."

I cringed slightly at "them", knowing that he meant the two dead animals.

"You might also want to go to the bathroom or something," he added softly. "You don't look so good."

_I don't feel good either_, I wanted to bite back, but didn't. Instead, I did as he said, tossing my gloves in the trash as I started walking.

As I did, I locked eyes with Cartman, who stood among the crowd and watched me with unreadable eyes. I paused in the doorway, staring at him, until he quickly looked away.

I was a little confused, but I didn't want to dwell in it right now. I felt ready to burst out crying, and I didn't want anyone else to see me. I looked horrible when I cried.

So, I started for the bathroom.

**~Third POV~**

Kyle watched Lisa leave until her footsteps faded from listening distance. Then he stared at his classmates, addressing them all, except Kenny and Cartman.

"What are you all standing around for?" he glared slightly. "Class is still a while away. Go do…whatever you people want to do. We'll take care of the mess."

The class stared at him for a few minutes, shifting awkwardly. A majority of them were still reeling from the recent events.

Cartman glared heatedly, almost looking murderous, at them. "What are you all, retards?! Listen to the kike and fucking leave already!"

Most of the class cowered at Cartman's glower. As much as they hated and disrespected him, his current facial expression couldn't help but remind them of a certain memory involving a certain boy-turned-orphan-and-mental-patient who went by the name of Scott Tenorman.

And so, they all slowly left the room, murmuring amongst themselves.

Once they were all out, Kenny shut the door.

All three boys were silent as they stared at each other for a few moments. None of them bothered to speak, for there was really nothing more to say. Kyle didn't even bother correcting his rival on the "kike" comment. Eventually, Cartman was the first to break the staring as he eyed Lisa's desk again, specifically the top of the desk, which was still open.

On it was a red arrow that was probably made of blood—the cat's blood, most likely.

Kyle and Kenny followed Cartman's gaze to where the arrow was pointing, which was the chalkboard, covered by its shade.

Cartman scowled and walked over to the board. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled up the shade to reveal what had been written in chalk.

**_GET OUT OF SOUTH PARK!! NOW!_**

**_47_**

The boys stared at the message, their expressions blank.

"…"

"…"

"…_Well..._I personally think they could have done better this time, at least with the message itself. I mean, seriously, you'd think they'd have come up with something more creative by now, something more chill inducing, perhaps."

Kenny's nonchalant sounding comment was met with steady stares from both Kyle and Cartman.

He shrugged. "What?"

* * *

And there goes the first update for the New Year. (Hopefully, your first month of 2010 has been better than mine.)

I'm surprised it was this one that'd be first though. Eh, whatever...people have probably stopped reading this anway.


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